The Isle of Seven Woes
by nopplespitrol
Summary: Due to lack of anything...um...did I mention Vikings? Vikings are cool. Too bad Inuyasha and his gang of a thousand men, divided by 200, mind you, don't think so. Rated for rating.


**Sven:** Hiiideeehooo! Brothers and Sisterlike-brothers, I bring you the finest of Viking Epics, with fineness rivaling the thread of Bolgifuer, weaver of the ten pillars who spin with the sun that circles the earth. With this mighty thread Bolgifuer sewed a mighty shoe that was later used by Thor's half-sisterlike-brother, Eraca, to run from the mighty beast of—WHACK!

**Cactus:** Sorry about that, Sven gets carried away. I may be periodically "WHACK!" him to remind him to keep on task, but I suppose Vikings must be Vikings…

**Sven: **Ya! It goes a long way back. Before the time of Ellask, son of—WHACK!

**Warnings/ Disclaimer: **I do not own InuYasha because I am poor like Ulthor the Pauper, who begged next to the castle of Jikkish the great king of Yorsen—WHACK!There will be many Vikings, several sharp rocks, and much Kikyo-basher-bashing in this chapter, so if you disagree with any of the above, you really oughtn't read. Really, you oughtn't. Flames will be used to aid the Vikings in pillaging. (Oh, and almost all of the Viking names, legends, etc. Are all made-up, so don't use this as a reference for a paper on Norse mythology because you'll fail horribly like Urso the Hasty in the battle of Blugguer Glen—WHACK!)

**Chapter One**: of Risk and Baseball

As Gloria approached the table with her tray, she felt rather unnerved. The lone figure seated there was emitting a strange aura of bloodlust as it hunched over an untouched lunch. But Gloria was too determined to give up the pursuit of her prey. With resolve, Gloria located herself across from the odd person.

"Like, Hi, Joanne!"

The addressee could have sworn her actual name was Jane, but in her state of mind anything was possible.

"Did you, like, totally see that InuYasha episode last night? Kikyo was, like, a beeatch, like, Inu should, like, totally kill, like, her! And did you, like, totally see that fluff between, like, Inu and Kag? It was, like, totally sweeeet!" Gloria squealed in a high voice that was capable of breaking the cafeteria windows.

Jane had long before decided to stop watching the animated version of her favorite manga. Besides, she could have sworn that she preferred Kikyo.

"Like, Inuyasha should, like, totally admit his feelings for Kago!" Gloria continued. It was at that moment that Jane decided to slip back into her reverie. Her mind traveled over vast foggy fjords, snowy peaks and mighty rocks jutting out of the sea with waves crashing upon them. Finally, her wandering mind stopped at a sodden battlefield where clashes of sword upon sword and struggles of men to decide the fate of a nation were executed. And, of course, men were screaming battle cries through the mister air at the top of their lungs:

"I don't, like, know why that clay beatch sticks around. She's, like totally always in the way!"

Vorgen the Icky lead his legion uphill to confront the impending enemy forces. He rallied his men, with inspiring words:

"I think Kags should, like, kiss Inu, like, right in front of her, that'll show that, like, zombie!"

Their horses stumbling on the jagged rocks spurting from the ground, Vorgen's men pressed forward, determination written on their faces. The enemies jeered at them, hoping to dissuade the Viking onslaught:

"Like, let's totally make a list of ideas on, like, how to kill Kinky-ho off!"

Suddenly the ground began to quaver, the jagged rocks on the hillside were uprooted and sent tumbling down the hill. Lightning began to burst forth from the sky. Several startled horses from both legions threw their riders off as they panicked from the commotion. A sharp tearing noise rang throughout the battle field as a rift started to open in the overcast sky. Vorgen angled his head towards the rift. A look of utter horror seized his features; he raised his hand to call off the attack. The sounds of hooves striking the loose gravel immediately followed as the men halted. He alone rode towards the enemy lines to warn them of the coming danger.

Gloria noted that the atmosphere above the lunch table was a bit off. Little did she know that a colossal cosmological event was occurring: The great baseball game between the constellations had been disrupted. The great lion had hit a foul ball, causing the Scorpion to become angry. In his rage, the Scorpion stung the fishes. In their pain, the fishes accidentally flopped on one platform of the scales; the opposite platform shot upwards and whacked the crab. The crab got really angry and for a moment decided to slice the mental barriers between the imaginary realms of two girls sitting at a lunch table…

Vorgen could sense the evil coming. His ranks, now allied with the enemy, stood on the hilltop, awaiting the impending threat. The rift twisted and moaned as a wave of Gloria's pointless whims and odd imaginations struggled to fit through. The sky around the gash bulged out from the immense force of the pressure on the other side. Vorgen narrowed his eyes in anticipation. Unsheathing his blade he uttered a legitimate battle cry:

"Do not let these foolish ideas taint these proud lands! We will fight them off, like all other scum!" With these words the ranks roared. This was truly a battle of all battles: mortal foes fighting together for a common goal, this surely would go down in history along with all other epic battles, such as the Battle of Basic Basin, where Vloyde the Heck-raiser, half-brother-in-law to Jilken the Migraine-prone who did not participate in the Battle of Nine Trees due to his splitting headache, but instead was replaced by Harrook the—WHACK!

The creations of Gloria's imagination descended towards Vorgen's forces. In response each man raised his weapon, ready to defeat whatever came at him. The first mangled creation glided close to the ground, and it was met by a flurry of swords. Similar instances followed before the battle erupted into a full-fledged hacking party. Vorgen cheered his men on as he felled many a hope and dream. When his sword got stuck in a particularly gelatinous creature, Vorgen decided to fight by hand. But, soon the battle's climax had passed. Shreds of pointless ideas were scattered on the ground. Vorgen wiped the sweat from his face and sighed, his job was finished. He didn't notice one last creature flapping away.

As for Gloria, her mind's first line of defense was shattered almost immediately by the initial Viking onslaught (lead by Eric the Red-violet), leaving the more delicate parts to the invaders' nonexistent mercy. Eric and his men bravely rode forward, vanquishing all who stood in their midst, even the most powerful of Mary-Sues and Larry-Stus did not stand up to the mighty Norse raiders. Soon, Gloria's imaginary realm was just a mass of dreamlessness and hopelessness…

Hehehe…ness.

The tiny creature/idea weakly floated towards a huge, jagged hole in the side of a cliff. Hesitantly, it hovered before the hole. Smoke billowed forth from the mouth of the cave; as a whole, the dark cavern give off a generally eerie feeling (the kind of eerie feeling that says "stay away") but the creature soon decided that it would rather take its chances in the lonely cave than with the Vikings.

Unfortunately for Jane's imagination, the creation had stumbled upon the mountinous lair of Weijsiid, the god of stupid "what-if?" questions. And it was most unfortunate that Weijsiid was suffering from a rare case of rat-induced boredom (making him especially mischevious) that had been caused by Sleejiv the sly rat-god who inhabited all shady and unpleasant places. For Sleejiv had tricked Weijsiid into playing an entire game of **Risk**, without taking any steps to shorten the game play. After hours and hours of losing and almost, but never, regaining territories, Weijsiid's forces finally perished in Western Australia. Weijsiid did not actually know where this fabled "Western Australia" was located (being a god who spent all his time in a cave and never traveled to see interesting things), but he was still sore about no longer possessing it.

"May Sleejiv forever be ugly!" Weijsiid cursed aloud. He slouched back in his throne carved from wall of the cave. It was an odd throne, and it had a particular look to it: as if the creator suffered from daily nightmares. For the arms of the seat were shaped as frightful serpents and the legs were the feet of trolls (who suffered from severely ingrown toenails)One huge eye was carved into the center of the throne's back. The whole cave seemed to be decorated in this peculiar fashion. Even Weijsiid himself found the general motif rather _unsettling_. This was the sight that greeted Gloria's pointless idea as it entered. It flapped erratically due to fact that it was still not used to the substantially dimmer light within the cave. After loudly smacking into a few low-hanging stalactites (thus making its presence known), it lunged forward, crashed into the wall above Weijsiid's throne, and limply fell onto the now-curious god's lap. Weijsiid eagerly snatched the oddity up and examined it. Writing ran along the length of the creature's belly, it strangely resembled a fanfiction summary:

"kags mad cuz inu has, ben goin 2 see kikiyo.. but what if they all get stuck on an iland. And inu reelize thaht kikihos a bicht . but will he admmit his tru feelings for kago me.? Inukag mirsan kiknone(cus she a bihch),"

All that Weijsiid needed to see was "what if". With a newfound surge of gusto, he leapt up from his throne and exclaimed, "Yes! This will be Weijsiid's new pet hobby!" on closer examination, however, Weijsiid couldn't help noticing the poor setup of this idea. "Hmmm, I think I may need to adjust it before I can do anything halfway competent," he stated aloud to no one in particular. Weijsiid, after a minute or so of searching around his throne, finally procured the Mighty Pencil of Y'doranse, which was carved from the Great Tree of Milkolse, land of Harr'd the Wizard of frost and unpleasant drafts that make one shiver, even in the warmest of weather—WHACK!

"Ah! Now for the editing stage," he said gleefully as he glanced down at message, "Hmmm, Weijsiid does not like the sound of this 'pairing' business." He instantly began erasing the end of the writing (which brought much discomfort to the creature it was written on).

"And what are these 'feelings' that this 'inu' contains? I will assume that they are the thirst for battle," several moments of silence occasionally broken by the scuffing sound an eraser makes followed until…

"Finished!" Weijsiid exclaimed. The finished message read like this:

"kags mad cuz inu _has not been pillaging,_ kikiyo _likes to pillage_.. but what if they all get stuck on an iland. And inu reelize thaht _pillaging is fun _but will he _smarten up and regain his glory?_"

"Now, to bring this idea to fruition …" Weijsiid began. Unfortunately for his pride, another voice rang out from the shadiest corner of the cavern,

"I see that you are starting another monstrosity, Weijsiid," the slippery voice teased.

"Sleejiv," spat Weijsiid, "you have no room to speak after that horrible game you made Weijsiid play!"

Sleejiv emerged from the dark corner and located himself across from Weijsiid's throne. With a slight bow he simply stated, "I only wish to help. I could not help but notice your sudden interest in this 'InuYasha',"

"Well, speak what you must, ugly rat!" Weijsiid jeered.

"I will help you locate the necessary pieces to make this whole idea a reality!" he offered as his whiskers bristled eagerly.

Weijsiid froze at these words. If he could pull this off, who knows what else he could achieve. The gods partying in up in the country club we call Valhalla would surely stop making fun of him! Cupping his chin with one of his four arms, Weijsiid raised twenty of his thirty eyebrows. He glanced to the side in consideration, blinked twice and finally spoke, "I will accept your offer," Sleejiv rocketed up towards Weijsiid and was about to shake his upper-right hand when the god added in, "on one condition,"

Sleejiv halted. "Yes?" he gasped out.

"You must give Western Australia back to Weijsiid,"

The control room was a mess. The paperwork was disorganized. And now there's talk of a mental breach. This was not the best day for the gatekeeper. Practically gliding on her office chair, she raced to and fro struggling to get things back in order. As the guardian and organizer of Jane's imaginary worlds, it was her duty to fix up the disaster that had befallen her host's mind. "Ugh! What a day!" she continued to scream aloud. She kicked her chair in the direction of the console that occupied the center of the room with amazing velocity, and barely avoided a messy collision. She wheeled herself around the corner and to the front of the gargantuan counsel and immediately began typing on the keyboard located there. All sorts of red warning signs flashed on the screen above her. In her typical fashion she hollered, "Why me? Why today? Why Vikings?"

She stopped herself right there. Gaping at the screen in disbelief she stuttered, "N-no, it can't be…" The monitor of the monolith displayed a rather important-looking message: _Breach in Viking sector…Weijsiid activity detected…Breach in Viking sector…_

The gatekeeper bolted out of her chair and down a corridor. Lining this hallway were what seemed to be an infinite amount of doors, each door had its own label. But they were nothing but blurs to the sprinting gatekeeper. She rushed forward, almost tripped on her shoelace, and finally came to a screeching stop. Not because she wanted to, mind you, because the hallway was rather crowded at the time. "There must be at least a hundred of 'em," she whispered in disbelief. Unfortunately, the gatekeeper didn't realize how many Vikings were behind the crowd of raiders she initially noticed. I'd say there were perhaps, 12,967 (twelve thousand, nine hundred and sixty-seven for you auditory learners out there) Vikings in that raiding party. Her initial guess of a hundred, times about twelve and nine-tenths. Now that's a whole bunch of Vikings, and there's only one gatekeeper, mind you. Taking a very short moment to consider her odds of survival, the guardian finally decided to take her chances in the nearby door labeled "Exodus" than with the Vikings. The gatekeeper then found herself in a mythical battle among the dormant comets in the fading future of our solar system, but we won't elaborate on _that_.

Feudal Japan:

"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" bellowed the red-cloaked sword wielder as he sliced a rather unpleasant-looking creature in two. The two halves, instead of dropping to the earth like all other well-behaved flesh, cemented back together. "Damn!" he cursed while coming back in for another attack.

"Inuyasha!" a concerned voice rang out, "go for its eye!" Heeding these words Inuyasha adjusted his sword so that it was pointing strait at the creature's ghastly eye. Charging forward at terminal velocity, Inuyasha impaled the monster's eye, the point of the Tetsusaiga was even protruding out of the back of creature's head. Propping his foot on the monster's forehead, Inuyasha hastily removed his now-bloodied sword from the now deceased monster.

"Keh! Another weak demon," Inuyasha snorted, "it's hard to believe that it has a Shikon shard,"

"Ummm, Inuyasha…" the same concerned voice half-whispered, "that wasn't the demon with the jewel shard,"

Now Inuyasha was very annoyed at this point. His face was darkened as he tried to manage past his anger. He barely choked out, "And where, may I ask, _is the demon with the jewel shard?_"

"Well," the speaker felt some sweat slide down her cheek, "it kinda got away," with those words unleashed, she prepared her best innocent smile, closed her eyes, and prepared for the tempest that would surely follow. She waited. And waited. And none came. She forced herself to open her eyes. The site that greeted her, you ask? A passed out half-demon, of course.

"Looks like Inuyasha needs some rest," she sighed as she gazed over his crumpled form. As she was about to kneel down to check on Inuyasha, a horn violently blared from a distance.

"What was that?" a young man inquired as he slid his right hand behind his ear and slid his left hand on a behind.

"Probably an army passing through," the behind's owner stated flatly as her hand left a rather obtrusive-looking rash on the man's face.

His right hand still behind his ear the man managed to whine, "Sango, you misunderstand me. I was only trying to ask for your opinion…"

"I'll give you my opinion, monk!" Sango threatened as she raised her giant weapon above her head (a boomerang in feudal Japan, of all places! How very odd indeed!)

"Now, Sango, no need to be rough," said owner of the concerned (which was now concerned about the monk's welfare) voice, "you know how Miroku is, he can't help himself,"

"Don't defend that letch, Kagome, I say he gets what he deserves!"

The horn sounded again. This time, the source was much closer.

"There it is again, is there perhaps an upcoming battle?" Miroku asked while cringing on the ground.

The horn sounded again, this time it was on the other side of the hill.

"We better get out of here, if that's the case," Kagome advised.

But it was too late. It was not an army passing by. It was not a conflict between the warring warlords who were fond of creating turmoil. No, this was much more frightening. These were Vikings, who happened to be charging down the hill.

**---------------------------------> **

**Cactus: **sorry if this chapter was a bit slow, but I haven't gotten to the juicy, tender innards of this story. This chapter was the building chapter on which I shall place all of the other chapters. I don't know when I'll update, I'm very busy, you see, with um…

…

…

Stuff…so don't send me reviews saying: "Lyk OMG!11 u hav 2 update! Lololololol!"

(assuming that any of you liked this weird story)

For all you potential flamers out there, don't send me this: "kikiyo issa birtch ill bash her all I want!11one ps..u suc," By writing this, you have just killed an angel. You feel bad, don't you? Fricken' angel-killer.


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